


My Type of Guy

by elusivelover_archivist



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-16 03:22:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16946028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elusivelover_archivist/pseuds/elusivelover_archivist
Summary: By Caryn BHan and Luke in a tavern brawl





	My Type of Guy

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Cara Loup, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Elusive Lover](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Elusive_Lover_\(Star_Wars_archive\)) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Elusive Lover’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ElusiveLover).

"Two glasses of lomin ale - make those large glasses - and put a coupla shots of lum in each will ya?" Han Solo bellowed across the throng of punters at the bar, a heaving mass of mixed species from human to Ithorian.   
      "Oh, and whatever the ladies are having," he added belatedly, hoping the rather embarrassing slip went unnoticed.   
      Reaching out above heads of all shapes and sizes, Han grabbed the drinks and passed them over to his companions.   
      "What's this?" asked Luke suspiciously, peering at the suspect brew foaming ominously in the glass.   
      "Just ale. Get it down ya 'n quit complaining."   
      Luke shrugged, and took a tentative sip. Okay, it was just ale - a good thing too, he wanted to keep his wits about him tonight. He tipped the glass back, and had downed half of it before the burning hit his throat. Coughing, he glared at Han, who just grinned back nonchalantly.   
      Why Han had dragged him to this godsforsaken dive was a mystery to him. Actually, that wasn't quite true; the reason they were here (or reasons, as there were two of them) stood beside them, inappropriately dressed for the chill evening, although the looks that many of the cantina's clientele were giving the ladies suggested their attire was having the desired effect.   
      All Luke could feel was embarrassment. Han had spent the whole of the week complaining about the lack of excitement around the port they'd ended up in for another dead-end assignment, and was determined that their last night here would be one to remember.   
      He looked across at Han, who had his left arm draped casually around the shoulders of one of the ladies. He was giving it his best shot - charm fully turned on, seductive smile - and the recipient of all that was lapping it up.   
      Luke was jolted out of his contemplation by the pressure of a warm thigh rubbing up against his.   
       _Oh hells,_  he thought for the second time in the space of a minute, what was he doing here? He knew Han would not leave here with his new-found friend unless he was assured Luke had suitable company for the evening (and by company, he knew Han meant more than a cozy little drink). If Luke didn't play along, Han would blame him for ruining his evening, and it'd be the talk of the mess room for weeks to come.   
      "You're quiet darling," the woman whispered, her breath deliberately tickling Luke's ear. Luke attempted a grin, which came out inadvertently as a grimace. Unfortunately, Han had noticed that, and it wasn't going down too well.   
      "'Scuse me a moment would ya?" Han disengaged himself from the arms and legs of his companion, and pushed his way over to Luke.   
      "Look kid, you gotta do more than just stand there looking like you're waitin' for the next hovercar. Talk to her... no, better'n that, dance with her."   
      The surging crowd had shoved Han up against Luke, and his body felt hot against him, his breath warm against his face.   
      "Look, if you don't like her, there're a lotta people here tonight. You could take your pick, you know."   
      "Han, I really don't think I'm anybody's type." Luke was feeling unduly flustered and wished Han would remove his hand from his shoulder, where it gripped, hard. He could feel little prickles of sweat breaking out under the collar of his tunic. Must be the result of that concoction Han had conned him into drinking.   
      "You don't, huh?"   
      "Don't what?" Confused, Luke had lost track of the conversation.   
      "Think you're anybody's type." Han's eyes had developed a strange glint. "Maybe you need a few lessons in self-confidence, kid." Han was leaning right into him now, and at that moment he seemed totally dangerous - Han, the pirate, at home in this environment as much as Luke was out of his depth.   
      At that moment, two female arms wound jealously around Luke's waist and pulled him back from Han. "Come on, Blondie, you gonna show me you can dance?"   
      "Yeah kid, you do that," muttered Han. He turned back to find his abandoned company, only to spot her in the overlarge arms of a spacer Han had encountered before. Shrugging, he moved towards the bar, abandoning what had seemed like a good idea at the time. Didn't do to go looking for trouble.   
      His glass refilled, Han variously elbowed and shoved his way through the crush of bodies, to find the dance floor, and the sight that met him there made him sigh in despair. Really, the kid had no idea what to do. He was moving okay, if a bit slowly. Actually, he was moving more than okay; he looked pretty damned good, if the truth be told. Tight black pants and tunic over that lithe young body, and he danced well, to the heady rhythm of the music. Trouble was, he should have been doing something with his hands. Something like running them over the girl's backside, in the same way that she was moving her hands over Luke's.   
      In fact, the sight of those hands on that firm behind was doing something strange to the muscles of Han's inner thighs, and, come to think of it, some other muscles too. He looked away, and found himself next to a hulk of a man, all flowing black hair and beard, with more jewellery on him than Han had seen on a stolen goods stall in Treasure Ship Row. Han looked again, to check, but yes, the man was definitely leering at Luke, and he had his eyes on Luke's ass too. Goddamn perverts - the place was full of 'em.   
      The man noticed Han staring at him, and grinned lasciviously. "Friend of yours?" he asked, nodding in Luke's direction.   
      "Who?" Han asked suspiciously.   
      "Gorgeous over there. Not too taken with his lady friend, is he? Maybe I could offer him a better time."   
      "I don't think so, pal," Han returned, but too loudly, and several conversations stopped as heads turned to stare.   
      "If you've got a problem 'pal', why don't you just come out an' say it?" the man growled.   
      "Yeah, as a matter'a fact, I do have a problem, and it's wearing your face!" Han threw back. What was that he'd said to himself earlier about not looking for trouble? It seemed to have slipped his mind.   
      "Like to say that again, buddy?" Beardy snarled.   
      "Well, I would, but I'm mighty bored talking to you now, so if you don't mind, I need another drink."   
      "So have this one," the man spat, simultaneously flinging the contents of his glass into Han's face. Good Corellian ale too, from the smell of it - what a waste.   
      Han tried - he really did, but the man was ready for action, and who was he to deny him that? His fist impacted with the large stomach with a hard thwack. He'd expected something soft and flabby, but the man was all muscle, and he grimaced at the shock of the blow. He had time for one quick breath before a beefy fist landed square in his jaw, splitting his lip and knocking him into two Whiphids who stood beside him. As though the whole cantina had just been waiting for an excuse, all hells broke loose as numerous ill-tempered spacers and assorted lowlifes decided to vent their frustrations on anybody whose face they had taken a dislike to.   
      His bearded friend seemed to have forgotten him temporarily, which was handy because Han was fully occupied with the two Whiphids, one of whom was trying to headbutt him (could be nasty, with those tusks), the other was aiming painful punches at his ribs.   
      "Han, what the hell's going on?" he heard at his shoulder.   
      "It's not my fault!" he complained, simultaneously ducking the latest headbutt, which carried on above him, and Han groaned inwardly as he heard the bone-crunching sound of a large hairy head connecting to Luke's innocent one behind him. Dazed, Luke staggered, but clearly decided some positive action was called for. A few swift kicks and the Whiphids lay groaning on the floor.   
      "Come on, let's get out of here," Luke urged, his words still slightly slurred from the blow to the head.   
      "But the fun's only just started." Han indicated the rapidly degenerating scene before them, of upturned tables, smashed glasses and tangled limbs, wings, arms and claws.   
      "Wanna have to pay for damages?" Luke countered.   
      "Yeah, you've got a point there. What are you waiting for?" -- as Han made a dash for the nearest exit, before the bartender could lay a firm talon on him.   
      Luke followed, with a sigh.   
      Outside, after sufficient distance had been put between them and the cantina, Luke stopped.   
      "Okay, what was all that about then?"   
      "You don't wanna know, believe me."   
      "Actually, yes, I do. You dragged me there after all, so you can damn well tell me why you got into that fight!" Luke stood glowering at him.   
      "Okay. You asked, remember. Beardy took a fancy to your ass."   
      "What?"   
      "Your ass. You know? This." Han reached out and placed his hand on Luke's backside.   
      "I meant, why was that a problem to you?" Luke tried for irritation, but failed. Having put his hand there, Han now seemed reluctant to remove it, and it had begun to move, slowly, over his behind, fuelling his rising confusion. He felt hot all over.   
      "Han, do you mind?" But his protest sounded feeble to his own ears, and Han ignored it anyway.   
      "No, I don't mind. Do you?"   
      "Well, I..." It would be better if his legs would stop trembling, but he couldn't seem to control the muscles properly. Oh, and Han's other hand had joined in now.   
      "Han..." he started, but was unable to finish as Han's mouth came down on his, and warm lips silenced him. Confusion dissipated, to be replaced by a heady swirl of desire, and he kissed Han back. Han responded by thrusting his tongue into Luke's mouth, and pulling Luke up hard against him. The contact sent violent shudders up Luke's legs, and he pulled back, breathless and dizzy.   
      "Is somethin' up?" Han asked.   
      "You could say that," Luke murmured.   
      "Guess we'd better go home then. If you recall, we've still got to make this a night to remember."   
  


* * * * *


End file.
